


I'm Dancing With Your Ghost

by unremarkablegirl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Background Relationships, Exes, F/M, Feelings, Flashbacks, Getting Back Together, Heartbreak, Or do they?, Pining, Post-Relationship, Rating May Change, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29793744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unremarkablegirl/pseuds/unremarkablegirl
Summary: Emori broke things off with John when he couldn't seem to get his act together. Fast forward six years and she finds that he's become everything that she knew he could. But will he be willing to give them another chance?**Excerpt: Emori carefully did not think about her empty apartment and the way the glow of the city lights after dusk made her ache in the strangest of ways. She did not think about how Raven had Echo to go home to nor did she think about how little she had outside of work.
Relationships: Echo & Emori (the 100), Echo/Raven Reyes, Emori & Raven Reyes, Emori/John Murphy (The 100)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	I'm Dancing With Your Ghost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [animmortalist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/animmortalist/gifts).



> Written for t100fic4blm, [check out the carrd here!](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)
> 
> A donation was made to the LDF which stands for the Legal Defense and Educational Fund. This is a branch of the NAACP which focuses seeking structural changes in democracy, disparities and racial equality. LDF also defends the gains and protections won over the past 80 years of civil rights struggle and works to improve the quality and diversity of judicial and executive appointments.  
> You can check them out [here!](https://www.naacpldf.org/about-us/)

_John had gone out three hours ago. He had an exam in six hours. Emori had been sitting on the couch for the past two hours._

_All her calls had been forwarded and he had stopped reading her texts somewhere after the first hour. Her phone was now laying face down on the coffee table as she stared at the door, willing him to walk through it, sober with textbooks in his arms. She knew that that wasn’t what she would find but, by god, she still hoped._

_She didn’t know how much time had passed, her mind had drifted aimlessly as she stared vacantly at the door, no longer wishing for anything, no longer expecting anything. She knew she should be studying as well, what with this being her final year of her Masters and all. She couldn’t bring herself to get up._

_There she sat, feet curled beneath her, staring at the door, beyond prayer and hope. Her only lighting was the floor lamp. She had no idea how much time had passed before she finally heard the click of the lock._

_Her head jerked up as her mind cleared, reprimands on the tip of her tongue as the door closed behind a swaying, smirking John._

** 

Emori awoke to her phone alarm going off. With a muffled grunt, she rolled over and reached for the thing, hitting _Dismiss_ before staring up at her ceiling. She always scheduled at least five minutes just for her to wake up and get out of bed. With her head stuffed under her pillow, she slapped her hand along the wall by her bed until she hit the switch to raise her blinds. Three years in this condo and she still hadn’t memorized the placement of that particular switch. 

After another minute, she sat up with a stretch, groaning as her spine cracked. She deftly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, blearily staring out at the cityscape. This was a view she was used to: the greys of the morning as the city slowly woke up, the sun not yet fully out. She had thought buying a condo in the city would mean waking up later because the commute would be shorter and she had been right, at first. For the first two years in this condo, she had been able to wake a mere 90 minutes before work and still make it with five minutes to spare. 

As she left her bed, making her way to the bathroom, she thought about the change that happened about a year ago when she had been approached by an upstart tech firm offering her a cushy job as a project manager; something that would also let her address concepts and innovations that interested her instead of just fulfilling her boss’s requests. 

She had jumped at the chance, doubly so when she found out Raven had applied and had just accepted an offer to be a research lead. While they usually worked parallel to one another, there were a few times their projects had crossed over and Emori delighted in working alongside Raven as they once had in their college days. But, as she had told Raven multiple times, even that wasn’t enough to excuse waking up at the ass crack of dawn to make the commute to the firm that was _conveniently_ located just on the outskirts of the city centre. Thus, she had to wake up much earlier to get there on time and, as a project manager, _on time_ was fifteen minutes to nine. Despite this, she loved her job and was glad that she had taken the leap with the startup. 

With a hum, she exited the bathroom, towelling her hair dry and heading to her closet and slipping into a smart jumpsuit. It was her compromise on the professionalism her position required and the comfort her actual responsibilities needed. It was as she sat at her vanity that she noticed that her nails were starting to get ragged again. She noted that she should set up an appointment for a manicure soon. Five years ago, she never would have imagined voluntarily going somewhere where her hands would be the focus but with the help of her friends and some self-realizations she was able to gain the confidence needed to do things like that. Now, she made jokes with her manicurist about getting a discount, what with her having two less fingers than the regular customer. 

A lot had changed over the years, some for the better and some—well, she still wasn’t sure. As she blended out her concealer, she cast it from her mind, instead ensuring it blended out well enough, considering she didn’t wear foundation. Next was mascara, some brow gel and bronzer. She didn’t bother with lipstick yet, knowing it would smear when she drank her coffee.

With that, she slipped on her watch, grabbed her phone and bag, slipped into a pair of loafers and went to get breakfast from the Starbucks at the corner of her block. 

**

_Emori awoke to arms tightening around her waist and a nose skimming up the back of her neck. Her lips turned up in the corners as she wiggled around a bit just to feel those arms tighten around her and pull her closer._

_Huffing out a laugh, she twisted as much as she could—the arms loosening—until she could face the man in her bed. Eyes locked onto his, she risked not speaking above a whisper, “Morning.”_

_He didn’t speak, instead dipping forward to brush a kiss across her lips. Emori sighed against his lips, not daring to deepen the kiss, content to stay in his arms and trade sleepy kisses. Her heart filled with warmth as she tangled their legs together and tucked her head under his chin._

_He dropped another kiss on her forehead, one hand coming up to cradle her head as he spoke his first words of morning, “G’back to sleep, ‘Mori.”_

_Her response was plaintive. “Stay?”_

_“There’s no place I’d rather be.”_

** 

Emori had gotten used to some familiar faces at her Starbucks. There were her favourites, Luna, the opening manager, and Hope, an energetic college student. There had been some temp employees over the years, but other than Luna and Hope, Emori was also familiar with this girl who went by Fox, Zoe, and Wick—grade A asshole, in her opinion. 

This was because of his tendency to make jokes that fell flat and his inability to read a mood. When she had first come in a half hour after 7 am, as opposed to her usual 8:15am, he had pretended to have a heart attack. She had not been impressed, nor had Luna or the other apparent early morning regulars. Regardless, she had adjusted to her new schedule, and had reduced the amount she terrorized Wick on the days he worked mornings—just a little. Only because Hope had looked at her with earnest eyes and whispered about how prickly he became for the rest of the shift. Emori couldn’t put her favourite college kid through that. 

Just as she had adjusted over the past year, so had Luna and the others that cycled through the morning shift. It helped that her order stayed the same save for an extra shot of espresso in her coffee. And that she had managed to be pretty prompt about coming in—after the first few weeks of sleeping through her alarm and scrambling around in a mad dash to avoid being late. 

The point was, when she entered the coffee shop, Luna had her order ready on the counter and Emori had her card out and some bills ready to pop in the tip jar. She was in and out in less than five minutes. With her chocolate croissant and black coffee in hand, Emori hopped onto a streetcar to begin her commute. By the time she had to switch to the bus for the final leg of the commute, she had finished her croissant and had about half a cup left. 

She got off the bus, walking the seven minutes to the office and finishing off the last of the coffee. She tossed it into the garbage in the main hall of the building, and slipped her lipstick into her hand to apply in the elevator. 

By the time she had gotten to her office, she had thirteen minutes before the rest of her department started to trickle in. She spent that time on her company laptop, going over schematics of her team’s latest project and double checking that she had no meetings for the day. No meetings meant that she could spend the day in the lab, working through kinks of the prototype and forgetting that she’d have more administrative duties eventually. It was only when the first of her team began to trickle in that she picked up some file folders and her laptop to make her way to their lab. She was excited to get to work. 

**

_They’ve been dating for close to six months, been on countless dates and yet they had only just gotten around to having a coffee date. They had done movies and bowling and walked through parks. They had met in the library and studied on the quad and had lively debates over lunch._

_They had not sat down with coffee and cakes in a quaint little café. Emori thought that they should have done this sooner. She sat with her vanilla latte while Murphy had opted for some tea. On the table between them was a slice of carrot cake demolished at both ends._

_The conversation was light, not driven by competition or fueled by passion but still it was warm and continuously flowing. Their smiles were wide and laughs carefree as they joked and shared stories and learned about the other._

_Murphy was telling her about some prank he and Miller had pulled at their high school when she noticed it. Their hands were intertwined on the table. Their left hands. Murphy hadn’t said anything, in fact he didn’t seem to have noticed the way they had clasped at each other. Emori wondered if she should say something. Six months and she was still sensitive about her hand._

_Murphy must have noticed that she had stopped paying attention, instead following her gaze down to where their hands lay. He glanced back up at her and then back down before shifting his grip and pulling her hand up. Emori had to lean over as he brought her hand to his face and dropped a kiss to the back of it._

_He shifted his grip again and intertwined their fingers, he didn’t so much as flinch as he lay her hand against his cheek, “When I asked you out, I asked out all of you, ‘Mori.”_

_His smile was warm and his eyes were soft as she took in his words, feeling her lips part in wonder. For all that they had gotten to know each other in the past six months, she still had yet to fully relax around him._

_In this moment, though, she realized that maybe she did finally have someone to lean on and trust. Maybe she had found someone she could claim as her own, the one person to be in her corner forever and always._

**

As the others made their way to the lab, greeting her and such, she set to work setting up the task list and writing out some goals and problems on the white board that made up an entire wall of their lab. This current project had been the brainchild of two members of her team, Monty and Jasper, and streamlined by Gaia before it made its way to her. 

She often bragged to Raven that she had the dream team and she truly believed that she did. While she hadn’t gotten along with Gaia at first, multiple late nights and early mornings helped ease the tension until they were finally able to find common ground over lunch, talking about tattoos and their more implausible ideas. Monty and Jasper, for all that they goofed around, were hardworking and both incredibly perceptive in their own ways. Their approaches to work were complementary and they collaborated like no other duo she had seen. 

As she turned from the whiteboard, she was struck again by the thought that they were the best when she saw that they already had the prototype laid out and their notes and pens were at the ready. Their passion was palpable. 

With a quick overview of their goals and some individual tasks to play up their strengths, Emori neatly scheduled their day before falling into the steady rhythm of working with her team. 

They collaborated, tinkered, wrote, and brainstormed as the day went on. There was laughter and banter and more than a few fond calls of idiot directed at each of them throughout the morning. Between shop talk, they talked about their lives, giving little updates and such. Jasper spent a good ten minutes gushing about a woman he had met, Emori had tuned that out, only gathering that she was just as nerdy as he was even if she wasn’t a tech nerd. She shot Gaia a grateful look when she cut in and started talking about the tattoo she would be getting that weekend. 

They lost themselves to the flow of time and the steady thought that they were making leeway in tackling the newest bug. Emori and Jasper were the more hands-on members of the team, they were the ones allowed to mess around with the prototype, rearranging circuits and revising the setup on the fly. Gaia and Monty handled the code; Monty was best known for his ability to lay out the groundwork and build code from scratch, intricately writing in specializations and lines specific to the project while Gaia handled aspects of machine learning and AI, creating smarter tech. 

It was only when Jasper’s stomach growled thrice in less than five minutes did they realize that they had worked the morning away. Instead of taking a lunch break, they ordered some pizza and continued working on it. 

Just as with the morning, they worked the afternoon away, not paying attention to the time until Raven came in to tell them that it was well over half past five with a reminder to put in for OT. Another benefit of this company, they weren’t stingy with giving employees their due. 

With a glance at Raven, Emori sent the others home, promising to take care of cleanup and shutting down. They clamoured out the door with waving hands and many thanks. 

Raven spoke as Emori carefully packed away their tools and prototype, “We’re gonna go out for dinner, just me and you. Echo is at this networking event for her firm and you know how much I hate those things. Stuffy old bastards.” As she spoke, Raven started helping with the cleanup, she always hated staying idle. “Anyways, it’s been a while since it’s just been us two and there’s that new shawarma place I wanted to try. You down?” 

Emori carefully did not think about her empty apartment and the way the glow of the city lights after dusk made her ache in the strangest of ways. She did not think about how Raven had Echo to go home to nor did she think about how little she had outside of work. She agreed with a smile and a tease, “Y’know, eventually you’ll have to go to one of those events. One of this city’s most promising young lawyers can’t just keep showing up without a date.”

Emori was smug as she neatly side stepped the arm that Raven shot out to push at her with, walking backwards to the door with an obnoxious smile, “C’mon! It’s your turn to pay for dinner.”

She didn’t bother commenting on Raven’s fond eye roll.  
.  
**

_Furtively, Emori checked her phone again. Had she gotten the time wrong? No, of course not, she had had it in her calendar for the past month and a half. She could see the waitress staring at her from the corner of her eye._

_She fingered the collar of her dress, tugged at a curl, and was careful to leave her left hand under the table. She wasn’t interested in any more pity._

_If he wasn’t here in the next five minutes, she would leave. Resolute in her decision, she took a sip of water and smoothed down the corners of the menu in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the waitress approaching. She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath and—choked out a gasp as the chair across from her dragged across the floor, immeasurably loud in her ears._

_Her eyes startled open and went wider still at the sight in front of her: John, disheveled and messy, sardonic grin on his lips, buttons undone and one sleeve rolled up. Even across the table, she could see how large his pupils were. She could see that the waitress had paused. She took in a breath, deeper than the last and released it slowly, all the while starting at John, daring him to say something, anything._

_His stupid grin only grew. “Happy two years, babe.”_

_Well. At least he remembered._

_It wasn’t enough though. Lately, it never seemed to be enough, always falling short of the mark, never putting in the effort, letting opportunities slip him by. She could feel the anger welling up inside her, replacing the embarrassment that had been tugging at her for close to an hour. She had thought that he had stood her up. And he had, in a way, hadn’t he? John sat before her, obviously having decided that getting blitzed out his mind was more important than their fucking anniversary._

_Her breath hissed out of her as her eyes narrowed, her hands balling into fists on her lap. The waitress was still staring._

_“That’s it? No sorry? I’ve been waiting for almost an hour, John. How much have you had to smoke? Do you know? Do you even care?”_

_His mouth opened, she wasn’t done. “I don’t wanna know.”_

_She stood up, smoothed down her dress and moved to stand beside him. She looked down at his head, his hair was unkept and greasy. She wondered how she hadn’t noticed that he hadn’t showered in a few days._

_Her fingers ghosted over his shoulder before she settled her left hand there as she spoke, her voice soft, an olive branch, “I’m gonna spend the night at Raven’s. I’ll be home tomorrow though, I’ll see you then.”_

_She walked away, already making plans to help John and refocus him on his studies and his goals. She had no idea that he’d disappear for a week, only to resurface a freshly polished young man. She would have no idea that that was just a front, that he’d fall much further over the next year and a half. As she left the restaurant, she still had hope for her John._

**

The two of them had decided to walk over to the shawarma place, idly talking shop along the way. Over the years, they had come to the agreement—were strong armed into agreeing—that work talk had no space at the dinner table, regardless of whether they were alone or with others. It had stuck, although both were hard pressed to admit that it was relaxing to have a time designated to relax and forget about schematics and plans for a while. 

It was a casual restaurant, meaning they ordered at the front before grabbing a table. Emori was glad, she much preferred open, casual environments like this where no one looked at anyone else twice, except to offer a helping hand or share exasperation. 

Once they had their orders and sat down, the conversation shifted away from work. Between bites of shawarma, sips of milkshakes and a shared plate of fries, they talked about podcasts, each letting the other ramble about the latest episode of their preferred podcast. They laughed and shared opinions and criticized other opinions that they had heard. It was nice. It was lighthearted. It let Emori forget about work and her empty condo.

Eventually the conversation shifted to more personal topics and Raven started gushing about Echo and how the two of them were finally taking a cooking class together. It made Emori ache, thinking about what she once had. She ignored it, instead choosing to tease Raven and cajole her into promising to cook at their next get together. With that, she shifted the conversation to recipes and cooking shows and good natured complaints about the way that cooking blogs needed to unload at least three generational secrets per recipe. 

Emori threw herself into this new topic, very carefully easing the ache and loneliness from her mind. She had been alone for six years, she had gotten accustomed to it, she didn’t need anyone else. She had her friends and she had her work. She was fine. And, as she lost herself in Raven’s laugh and the warmth of friendship, she believed it, too. 

They decide to call it a night when their milkshakes were finished and the plate of fries lay empty between them. They had been laughing over some throwaway comment, Emori holding the door open for Raven when Raven got a text. 

As Raven was walking past her, Emori was in the perfect place to notice the moment that the smile slid off Raven’s face but she wasn’t at a good enough angle to get a glimpse of her phone. She wondered if something had happened to Echo. 

Fleetingly, she reached out to touch her fingertips to Raven’s elbow, pushing her out the doorway and into the cool night air. “Did something happen?”

With a jolt, Raven shut her phone off and slid it into her pocket, not giving Emori a chance to look at the screen. She turned to Emori, offering an unconvincing smile, “Don’t worry about it, Echo just ran into someone she knew.”

Emori searched her face, wanting to push but also not wanting to end the night on a sour note. She let it go, assumed it must have been Nia or someone like her. 

The two split up as Raven goes down to the subway, Emori opting to grab a taxi instead. As she watched the city lights flash by, Echo’s text slipped from her mind as she shook off the warm haze of good food and good company, instead going over a few budget proposals she had been mulling over but had yet to fill out. 

Those, too, slipped from her mind after getting to her building and up into her condo. There she let herself decompress, stripping off the jumpsuit and bra, plugging in her phone and wiping the makeup from her face. With a sigh, she slipped into her pajamas before starting in on her skincare routine, serum, toner, moisturizer, nothing too complicated. 

As she waited for the products to settle into her skin, she leaned her forearms on the windowsill and looked out over the cityscape. Idly, she rubbed at an ache in her chest, fingers resting there once she realized there was nothing to be done for it. With her elbow resting on the sill, she left her hand laying over her chest, tapping her fingers against her collarbone as she followed the paths of cars as their headlights carved out their way. 

She inhaled, letting the breath trickle out slowly as she looked up and let her eyes hop from building to building. The breath had left her, she did not inhale again as her hand still played out a little rhythm against her clavicle. Only when her lungs started to ache did she inhale again. In that moment, she admitted another defeat for that strange despondence was still within her. She wondered if it would ever leave her. 

She turned from the windows, gracelessly sliding over to her bed and clicking the switch to let the curtains roll down—a barrier between her and the world. She curled up under the duvet, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to chase away the chill travelling down her spine, reminiscent of fingertips tracing vertebrae. 

**

_John stared at her, rooted to his spot by the door as she stared back, her cool slowly diminishing as she took him in. Ratty jeans, a new tear in his shirt, balance unsteady as he used the door for support. There were no books in his hand. He had an exam in a few hours. He was in law school—he was in his second year of law school and he was still acting like this was a joke._

_She continued to stare, tracing the shift of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed with what little light there was. She could feel her tenuous grasp on her anger waver as she took him in. Nodding to herself, she stood from the couch, snapped her fingers and pointed to the seat she just vacated. Didn’t bother to watch John stumble his way over, moving to turn on the lights and taking vindictive pleasure in his hiss of displeasure._

_She wasn’t quiet as she rummaged around the kitchenette, filling up a glass of water and then slamming it on the coffee table in front of John._

_Emori could have sat beside him on the couch, could have sat on their thrifted armchair. Instead, she chose to settle on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table. This way she could stare at him, look him in the eye when he inevitably ducked his head, she would give him no quarter, no mercy, she had run out of excuses._

_Her voice was deceptively calm and startlingly loud in the quiet of the apartment, like the hiss of a blade as it left its scabbard, “What exam do you have tomo—today, actually?”_

_He didn’t answer, instead staring at her over the lip of the glass in his hands. It didn’t matter._

_“C’mon, John, I know you know, you’re reckless but you’re not stupid. You’re well aware of what you’re about to fail,” she cajoled, looking for a response._

_His fingers flexed around the glass, his mouth pinching. Good. He still had anger somewhere under that sad, apathetic front he was putting on._

_She could feel her lips turning up in a sneer as she continued, never knowing when enough was enough, “You’re losing it, John. You’re slipping and if you’re not careful, you’re gonna end up at rock bottom with less than nothing. No J.D., no future, no friends, no girlfriend.”_

_As she spoke, his lips curled, mirroring her sneer, “You think I give a shit!? You think you have the right to be lecturing me about my life? You, who—who showed up four years ago, who only learned about my childhood through bits and pieces? You, who thinks that you have me all figured out and who thinks that I’m capable of more?”_

_His voice, like the steel tip of a sword dragging across concrete, reached a high. “Look at me, Emori, this is what you signed up for. I’m nothing but a fuck up and I’ll continue to be a fuck up until the day I die because that’s all I know how to be. I’m not destined for more, I won’t get more.”_

_He leaned forward and spread his arms, a target for her ire as he repeated himself, voice losing its anger, giving way to tiredness, “This is what you signed up for. This is the man you’re dating, I don’t know why you expect anything more of me.”_

_Somewhere in the middle of his tirade, the sneer had dropped from Emori’s face, her lips were pinched together, stopping herself from speaking, from running her mouth, from spewing what was running through her head as she listened to him speak. She wondered, briefly, if she really was trying to save him._

_It was Emori’s turn to swallow and then she stood. John mirrored her, standing too, his arms crossed over his chest, holding himself together. Her own arms stayed at her sides, hands balled into fists as she exploded._

_“You—you’re just throwing it all away, John! You’re sitting there, feeling sorry for yourself, throwing yourself and your future away before it even starts and for what? To save your feelings in case you fail? News flash, everyone fails at one point or the other, you get up! You learn, you move forward and you have support. You’re not alone, John!”_

_And then they were both yelling, arguing and needling at each other. They pointed out flaws and dashed ambitions. They cut small injuries against each other, bleeding venom and hurt as they threw themselves into the fight._

_Emori thought she was getting through to John, pointing out his lack of ambition, his self-flagellating tendencies, his inability to see what he has in front of him, to seize opportunities and fly farther than anyone expected. She was wrong._

_Almost four years of love and dreams and future and it ended with steel dripping crimson, chests heaving and battlefield forgotten in the face of pain and aching hands._

_It was Murphy that dealt the finishing blow. “You don’t get it, do you? Look at you, ‘Mori. You have a chip the size of your shoulder, you’ve been told that you are nothing, less than nothing, broken and incomplete and, and that anger is what’s driving you. You’re blind, they don’t care to see you succeed and they’ll do all they can to see you fail. You’re never gonna have enough, be enough, you’re just like me.”_

_He scoffed, anger sliding off of him, “Two broken people, we should just accept our lot. Take what we can get and get by. Who needs to be a lawyer or have some fancy Masters degree when we’re never gonna get anything out of it.”_

_Emori’s eyes were wide, her mouth agape, her fingers trembling. Her mouth closed with a clack of teeth, as she realized how truly hopeless this battle was. She didn’t bother replying, instead shouldering past Murphy to their bedroom._

_There, she blindly grabbed clothes, shoving them into a bag, before grabbing her charger, laptop and books and shoving those into her school bag. Murphy hadn’t followed her into the bedroom._

_She returned to the main room, he had collapsed onto the couch, head in hands. Good. She lifted her phone from the coffee table, slipping it into the pocket of her sweatshirt. She looked at his downturned head, hair greasy and unwashed, considering. In the end she walked away._

_Her hand was on the doorknob, her back to Murphy when she spoke again, “You know, I believed in you. I believed in us. I never wanted it all, but I damn well did want more than I had ever gotten and I know I’m gonna get it. I had hoped to get it with you at my side, both of us realizing our potential but—but I guess not. I know you’re capable of greatness, Murphy, the only one who doesn’t realize that is you.”_

_She swallowed again, “I love you, Murphy. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for at the bottom of those bottles.”_

_She turned the knob, leaving him behind, feeling her heart break and knowing that she’d have to start rearranging her plans for the future. She had lost hope for Murphy._

**Author's Note:**

> listen, listen, this has been ready for a bit but I hadn't made as much progress on Chap 2 as I would have liked but life so here!  
> I do plan on updating p consistently tho
> 
> I'm on tumblr to talk [@unremarkablegirl](https://unremarkablegirl.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> There's a [moodboard!](https://unremarkablegirl.tumblr.com/post/644514447910666240/im-dancing-with-your-ghost-memori-6-years-later) made by the wonderful [@sparklyfairamira!](https://sparklyfairymira.tumblr.com)


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